Never the Same
by dancingtothebeatles
Summary: Adelaide's, commonly known as Delia, best friends are the marauders. She's trade a skirt for quiddich robes any day. Until 6th year. Sirius Black suddenly becomes not only everyone else's secret crush, but her own. And she's the last to know. r/r! :D
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! This is a fanfic during the time of the marauders. I really enjoy these characters and I've added in an OC, Delia! I thought this needed a little explanation so here goes: She's their fellow marauder (the 5****th****!) and joins them in their pranks and adventures. Her full name is Adelaide but everyone calls her Delia (except her teachers). She is plagued by auras, however, that no one can seem to figure out. This first chapter is really an explanation so I'm sorry if you're terribly bored with it! It's kind of confusing, but the story is set in 6****th**** year, the majority of this chapter, though, is in 1****st****. This is an important event because she A) first does magic, B) first has an aura, and C) meets Sirius (who up until 6****th**** year, she views as her best friend). **

** I, like everybody else on this site, owns nothing of Harry Potter.**

** Alright! Let's get on with the story! Oh! And next time, I won't talk as long! :D**

I'm average. An average height - though on the short side - a skinny, rather bony figure and not brown, not blond hair that falls in curly waves just above my shoulder blades. The only not average things about me are my eyes. No one can figure why they are this way, but my wizard doctor said it's because of the auras. My eyes are never the same. Each time I haven't aura, my eyes change colors - not normal colors either. They're colors like purple, ice blue, pink. They can be normal, but exaggerated, shades like a deep, deep green or electric blue.

I'm an avowed tomboy, and proud. I'd much rather be covered in mud on the quiddich field than going to a masquerade in a corset. I played football before I came to Hogwarts and I now serve as a chaser on the Gryffindor house team. I'd say I'm decently pretty, no where near a Lily Potter in looks. I don't dress in rags but I also don't where 6 inch heels every day to school _like somebody I know_.

I'm also a muggleborn, reared and raised in Dover, a town about 2-and-a-half hours outside of London. My parents work in the insurance business and are away from home more than they are there. My nanny, Anna, came from America and it is she who knows me best. Although she doesn't work for my family anymore (she works for a rather too-rich-for-their-own-good family in London) she knows of my wizardry and writes me often. It was she who accompanied me to Diagon Alley (my parents, at that time, were in Guam), my very first experience of the wizard world.

It was then, that my auras began… I still remember it very clearly, though was nearly 6 years ago.

"I don't feel so well, Delia. Would you mind terribly if I snagged a sandwich in The Leaky Caldron while you did your wand thingy?" Anna asked, looking rather green. We were standing outside of Ollivander's Wand Shop and I was eagerly trying to get a glimpse of the wands through the tinted glass.

"Yeah, yeah… sure." I said, not knowing what I was agreeing to. She thanked me and walked away slowly. Poor thing. This magic stuff was sure getting to her. I turned away from her retreating figure and opened the door.

"CUSTOMER!" yelled a bell at the top of the door. I heard an airy yet slightly annoyed voice say, "Yes, yes, I'll be right there…" My eyes finally adjusted to the light and I looked around me.

There were seemingly hundreds of rows of shelves and on them, thousands of, what I assumed to be, boxes containing wands. It seemed impossible that a shop that tiny could hold so much! A dim, dust and cobweb covered chandelier sent shadows criss-crossing in every direction. A small desk, covered with more wand-boxes was in the far corner and behind that, I could see another room—full of more boxes! I strode eagerly over to the desk, my footsteps muffled by the soft maroon carpet.

"Hello!" said the same airy voice, stepping out of the back room. "Looking for a wand, are you?" I nodded. He was a tall and frail looking old man with wispy white hair, pale blue eyes, thin, papery skin and wore deep blue robes. He pulled out a tape measure and it began to measure me—my forearms, my head, my elbow-to-shoulder and the circumference of my index finder. The man, Ollivander, nodded and mumbled to himself words I couldn't quite make out.

He turned and entered the back room, muttering numbers to himself. I heard him rummaging through, no doubt, more wands until he said "Ah! Just the one!". He came back and said, while opening a long and thin box, "Try this one," and he handed me the wand. "Eleven-and-a-half inches, made of oak—a strangely strong wand there because of that… and a core of dragon scales."

"Strong wand there…" he repeated airily as I fingered the runes carved in the light, grainy wood.

"Why is that?" I asked, in awe of this new world I was suddenly a part of.

"It is extremely strong—only a truly great wizard could use it, and use it well, mind you. But, that means the spells will be that much stronger," he bent down behind his desk and began searching for something, only the top of his wispy white hair showing over the top of the desk in his voice was slightly muffled.

"Oak is also rarely used as a wand because you must only use the center—the heartwood—which is almost impossible because there are few oaks old enough to have a heartwood large enough for a wand. Also, dragon scales…" He laughed and I didn't understand his joke. "They can only be taken off of a live dragon. You can see why there aren't many dragon scale wands out there."

"Wandwork," he muttered afterwards. "the most complicated magic…"

He finally stood back up with the book about as thick as your hand is wide. On the front of the leather cover the words "Wand History" were printed in faded gold ink. He opened it and the musty smell of extremely old books filled the room.

"Oh, my!" He exclaimed, his eyes widening as he searched the page.

I rushed forward to the desk, peeping over the edge I was just barely tall enough to see over. "What, what is it?" I asked eagerly

"This wand was owned by Seamus Dekker who created the Sorting Hat!" I looked quizzically at him as I was a muggleborn and I had no earthly idea what a "Sorting Hat" was.

"Muggle parents?" He asked and I nodded.

"The Sorting Hat is a charmed hat that you place on your head and it reads your personality. It then places you in the appropriate house—Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. It would've taken incredible magic for him to create that…"

I stared down at the intricately carved wand that now appeared much more than wooden stick to me. This world - this amazing new world - held so many unknown wonders! My simple brain couldn't comprehend all of it in that moment - it was still insane to me! Magic!

"You may go ahead and wave it around a bit—see if it works well for you."

I felt quite the idiot but I gave it a little flick and for a split second, I thought there had been a mistake - I actually wasn't a wizard. But I was wrong…

My knees suddenly gave out like someone had kicked the back of them, hard, and I was immediately face-down on the floor. I heard Ollivander give a small shout and there was suddenly a loud ringing in my ears. I then saw only darkness without closing my eyes. I felt like I was being pulled away from my body—like I was leaving it in the wand shop and my mind flew away.

There was suddenly a white-hot, burning light and I saw someone's silhouette—tall and skinny and hazy like in a fog. He was speaking in an urgent whisper to someone and his voice, sharp and cold, drifted over to me.

"Yes—he is looking for her, tracking her down…" it said.

Another voice—hidden from sight, "What would the Dark Lord want with scum like that?"

The first voice said, "I don't know…" He sounded frustrated, like he was angry that the Dark Lord wouldn't trust him with that information. "But he told us she was vital to the plan…"

"Strange…" the other voice trailed off. "What was her name again?"

"Adelaide Mews."

My heart pumped frantically and the scene drifted away. I was returned to my body and I sat up suddenly with an awful, splitting headache and sweat dripping down into my eyes.

"What?" Ollivander shouted as he rushed to my side. "What is it?" Shutting my eyes tightly and gripping the burgundy carpet in shaking fists, I answered, "I… d-don't know… there was smoke… o-or fog… and there was a man…" I paused and felt fear claw at my heart.

"What did he do?" Ollivander asked eagerly, knelling at my side. "The Dark Lord… i-is looking for… looking for… me." I muttered.

Ollivander's blue eyes widened and he looked just a little deranged—ok, not a little, a lot. His wispy white hair, thin, bony face, overly large nose and star-struck expression made him resemble certain Albert Einstein I know. I laughed in spite of myself, but his expression remained fearful and worried so I controlled my insane spurt of laughter and focused on "The Dark Lord" and my pounding headache.

"Who is the Dark Lord, anyway?" I asked, uncertain. My headache peaked and I whimpered like a child.

Ollivander put the question on hold and summoned a couch for me to recover on. I could feel the springs of the embroidered, oriental-looking silk covering but, it was much more comfortable than the floor. I stared at the rows and rows of shelves with wand boxes piled precariously on them. I wondered about this strange world. Who has a name like "The Dark Lord" without being ominous in nature? This brought me back to the unanswered question, and I asked it again.

Ollivander looked up from _The Do-It-At-Home Guide to Healing Spells _slowly and bit his lip in thought.

"It's just a conspiracy at this point… but, many of us don't think so," he finally said. "We think that this man who goes by the name of... well, you see... you are really supposed to say his name, they say... they say something terrible will happen - though I'm not quite sure what..."

He grabbed a scrap of paper and quill and wrote on it V-O-L-D-E-M-O-R-T. I read it and said, "So this man, Volde—"

"Don't say it!" Ollivander shouted at me. I winced as my headache flared and Ollivander went back to flipping through the spell book.

"What is so terrible about him, anyway?" I voiced, tentatively. Ollivander stared at me strangely and struggled to put words together.

"First off, my brother is obseeeeeeeeesssed with him, along with the rest of my family."

Ollivander and I both jumped.

"Secondly, he hates muggles and muggleborns and enjoys killing them for sport," The mystery boy said. "Truly a _charming _fellow."

I turned my head to see a boy my age leaning on the doorframe. His silhouette was tall and confident. He was already muscular, even though he was only 11, like I. He walked slowly into the reach of the light and the first thing I saw were his silver eyes. They sparkled like two amazingly beautiful stars piercing through the inky black sky that was his curly hair. Even when he wasn't smiling, his soft lips gave the illusion of a playful smirk. He was tall, taller than Ollivander, and could easily rest his chin on my head. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and ran his dazzling gray eyes over me. And I suddenly felt self-conscious. Then I remembered what had just occurred and I forgot about his muscles, and eyes, and lips, and long, curly hair that I could easily imagine myself—

"What happened, anyway?' He asked, interrupting my reverie. Assuming he meant me passing out, I realized I didn't even know. So I looked to Ollivander and he began to explain.

I was nearly as surprised as Sirius. An aura apparently is a vision of the past, present or future. Great... so that means sometime in the future, I will be hunted down by some psycho, muggleborn-killing, lunatic, 'Dark Wizard'!

"While you were out," Ollivander said after he'd finished explaining what happened. "Your wand performed some strange magic—magic I've never seen before. It also supports the interesting piece about the Sorting Hat." Ollivander paused and stared at the place where I had fallen. Sirius and I didn't interrupt—we know he was deep in thought.

"Four patronuses—a lion, a serpent, an eagle and a badger—came out of your wand and into your-your head, I think."

Certainly strange, but true significance of the animals was lost on me. Ollivander continuesdtalking at the same time as a group of boys entered the wand shop. One called, "Oi! Sirius, ya got your wand yet?"

Even Sirius ignored his friends, we were both zones-in on Ollivander's words. He said, as he reached for something in his pocket, "I believe those patronuses may be the reason for this." He held up the mirror and I gasped.

Gold. My eyes were a glittering, stunning shade of gold. Never, ever, had my eyes ever been anything like this before (normally a rather bland shade of brown).

"The patronuses were that exact shade of gold," Ollivander explained further, "This is unlike any sort of magic I've ever dealt with before. I not sure what to think…"

I laughed. _He _didn't know what to think.

And that was the most important day in my life. I was introduced to the magical world, I met my future best friend, and I started my auras.

All in one insane hour.

I gazed at my reflection in the window, looking especially at my eyes, a pastel purple. England's countryside shot by behind them and my four best friends joked playfully behind me. The playful laugh that made my heart beat like it was running a marathon reached my ears. I turned from the window to see Sirius tackling James to the ground, his silver eyes flashing happily. 6th year was going to be the best year. Ever.

**I hope you liked it! Also. Omigosh, I can't believe I forgot… REVIEW! REVIEW! **_**REVIEW!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Soooo… I was bored walking around Costco and decided to write this. I know, it seems like I've abandoned this fic but I haven't! I promise! It's just not top of the priority list. Meh :/ So hope you like! It's long… we were in Costco for-ev-er! Agh!**

"Jesus, could this get any more boring?" I muttered, partly to myself, partly to Sirius who had his cheek resting on the table, 'sleeping.'

He snorted.

Even _THAT_sounded heavenly.

"You'd make a good pig," I jabbed at him quietly.

He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his shiny silver eyes. "Nah. I like bacon too much," he whispered, (aware of McGonagal's death glare in our direction) gesturing to the steaming thick cut slices of bacon.

It was my turn to snort, and I had the feeling it didn't sound nearly as attractive as Sirius's did.

The Great Hall was dutifully silent and Professor McGonagal droned on and on about the school's rules and regulations, off limit areas, class schedules... you know. All the terribly exciting stuff.

Although her speech was just so captivating, I still couldn't help but eye all the piping hot food. Oh... How it must feel to have the succulent corned beef in your mouth and have it slide into your stomach after a long day of traveling. Or the mashed potatoes, doused in brown gravy. And the puddings! Incredible.

I saw James making all sorts of strange faces from across the table. Looking to my left, I found Lily resisting the urge to burst out laughing. Her hand covered her mouth and she was turning quite a bright shade of red.

_Ooooh_, the icon couple of Hogwarts.

Then James stopped and gave Lily a confident smirk and a bawdy wink. She laughed but I couldn't help thinking, "Lucky Lily."

Sirius leaned in close to me, practically laying his head on my shoulder, and whispered in a deep voice, "Remind me next year to _MAKE SURE_Dumbledore doesn't get slipped the spiked drink next year, Del," his lips brushed my ear as he let out a hot gust of air in laughter. I shivered involuntarily. "We can't sit through this awful speech again."

"Definitely," I managed to spurt out between racing heartbeats.

Darn those bloody teenage hormones.

He shifted back into his normal sitting position and smiled at me, all seductively, and wiggled his eye brows.

I stifled a laugh...

And I thought maybe my heart should just put itself out of its misery and explode already.

_Eww,_ I thought. _That'd be gross. Cuz then my heart guts would be everywhere._

But then,

my mind explored. _Sirius would have to give me CPR. Or maybe even mouth-to-mouth. But, no, I'd surely be dead if my heart exploded. Ooo, ooo. Then Sirius would recognize his __undying love__for me in the last moments of my fragile life. And he'd kiss me right here in front of the school. And by the end of the kiss, I'd be dead. And he'd never be able to love again because he knew I was the only one for him. And he'd weep for me for days, vowing never to love another soul. Oh! It'd be so tragically romantic—_

God! Snap out of it, Delia!

So I set my jaw and shook my head.

Sirius sent me a strange look and a smile, which sent me into another bloody fantasy about him.

_Stop. Thinking. About. Sirius. Gorgeous. Black._

My gosh. That

SHOULD _be his middle name. Then when he—_

"Stop it!" I actually said out loud. I literally slapped a hand over my mouth, almost like I could snatch the words out of the air and place them back into my mouth. But, alas, my not-so-little outburst sent the people in my general area staring at me like I was some sort of freak of nature. I gave them all a little smile and shallow laugh.

Then I realized McGonagal had stopped talking. I raised my eyes up to the raised platform in front of the teachers table to see her staring me down.

"Now," she continued. "As Miss Delia Mews has so kindly demonstrated, you children obviously cannot contain yourselves any longer—"

I began to sink lower and lower in my seat, mortified, turning bright red in the process.

"—so you may go ahead and eat."

A collective "Finally!" was muttered and a wave of grateful noise swept through the Great Hall.

"Miss Delia Mews," I heard James say in this stuffy, proper voice. "I am forever indebted for your gallant act of shutting up the ferocious Dragon who inflicted upon us the—"

But then he caught scent of the piping hot shepherd's pie and decided he was more interested in that than his joke.

_Huh,_ I thought_. From zero to hero . . . Then back to zero._

Then I took to James's ways and decided the food was _much_ more interesting after all.

"As a gift to our Seventh year students, they will be rooming in the new dormitories. Each with a larger bed, canopy style curtains, more bathrooms for the girls, bigger closet space and a balcony for every four students. They are located on a new floor, the highest floor, of the Gryffindor tower."

A collective shout rang out from all the seventh years and the younger students groaned their disappointment. I whooped and did a little jig; consisting of the sprinkler, the lipstick and an excited variation of the chicken dance.

Lily began mimicking me and then James who thereby made it 'cool' and soon, almost the whole seventh year class was doing my weird chicken-dance-crump and Cupid shuffle mash up.

McGonagal muttered something suspiciously like, "The youth these days. All punks." and left the room with a huff.

The excitement died shortly, and soon we were all hopping up the staircase, two at a time.

"Jeez, this is a journey," Marlene said. She grabbed my arm in order for me to pull her limp mass up the staircase.

"Aaaagh!" I shouted. My momentum slowed, I slipped off the carpeted stair step and face-planted. Marlene followed and landed on top of me.

"Oooog," I moaned. I heard several other people stop short, one fell as well. Most just kept on running up the stairs, I even felt someone step on me.

"Ooooh. Marlene get off!" I said into the carpet, getting a mouth full of cardboard flavored fibers.

"I'm sorry," she moaned.

Marlene shifted off of me just as I heard Lily's voice coming up behind me. I strained to look up but all I saw were shoes, hopping up the staircase.

Then I heard a shrill laugh and felt a foot come rocketing to the butt.

"Look at Delia! Finally where she belongs!" that phrase was followed by a shrill laugh I easily placed. Caroline Hood kicked me! Marlene finally off of me, I vaulted onto my feet. I was just in time to see a fist contact with Caroline's jaw. Hard.

Then, horrors of horrors, she burst into tears.

"Lily punched me!" she wailed.

By this time, I was standing, staring at her with eyes like a deer. Lily was gazing at her clenched fists like they weren't her own, not believing she actually punched someone. Marlene was doubled over, laughing her bloody gorgeous head off, clutching the staircase railing. Caroline kept bawling. And the people continued up the stairs and met our little scene. Sirius asked what happened and I ignored him. Caroline rushed to him faking a little breakdown. Seeing her tears, he back up in fear. I don't blame him.

"Go back to kindergarten, Caroline," I said and turned to hop back up the stairs, pleased with my witty little insult.

Then I blacked out.

And the last thing I thought was how stupid I must look. Tripping. And falling. Again.

But the smoke, and the figures, and their gruff voices distracted me. Today they were angry.

"I've waited five whole years!" one said, the leader. I recognized his voice from early visions. He was sitting elegantly in a high-backed chair. Someone actually kneeling at his feet.

"Yes, master. Just a few more months. She'll be of age and—"

"She's ready now!" the leader roared and the servant uttered a squeak.

"But you said yourself," a new voice drawled, coming up from behind. "She must be of age."

The master uttered a frustrated noise, one that sounded like it belonged to a three-year old.

"We strike on her birthday," the master said, strangely calmed. "Three months from now. Now bring me my snake."

And my vision dissipated.

Opening my eyes, I prepared myself for the headache. It came. As pounding as ever.

Then I heard Caroline's laugh and the shrillness of it made my headache flare. It drove me to tears.

The last of the students had gone up the stairs. I was lying in Sirius's lap and he knew what to do, he'd witnessed my visions many times. He began to massage my temples and the headache receded.

"What color?" I asked Lily who hovered above me.

"Why did four patronuses come out of your butt?" Caroline jabbed.

"Not my butt, idiot," I spat through the headache. "My wand."

"You don't have a wand. You're a girl," Caroline retorted.

"You're a perv," I said and she turned. She gave Sirius a wink and bounded up the stairs.

"Don't listen to her, Delia. She's a jerk," Lily said to me.

"What color?" was my answer.

Lily sighed. "Bright blue. It's really one of the prettier ones."

"What did you see?" Sirius asked, my headache more tolerable because of him. These two, Lily and Sirius, have helped me through so many of these episodes, we have an unofficial little schedule. Sirius comforts. Lily asks the questions.

"They need me but I have to be of age. They're going to 'strike' on my birthday. Whatever that means," I said.

"Oh, Delia," Lily whispered.

I felt Sirius shift under me. Now I HAD to look him in the eyes.

"We won't let that happen. I promise," he said that with such sincerity that I almost believed he could stop him. Almost.

I closed my eyes and he kept rubbing my temples.

"Do you have any idea who it is?" I heard Lily ask.

"I have my suspicions," I said.

_No, not suspicions,_ I reminded myself. _It's the Dark Lord. I've seen him._

I furrowed my brow.

There was a minute or two of grateful silence. I battled with whether or not to tell them I knew it was Voldemort.

I felt Sirius's chest expand. He took a deep breath and said, "I know who it is, Delia. I'm so sorry but my parents... they work for them. That doesn't mean I agree with them... I'm not my parents, Delia. I promise."

That settled it. If he was willing to tell me this, I was willing to tell them... all that other stuff.

"I know, Sirius. I've known for a long time. They were in a vision, years ago. I know it's voldemort and I don't care."

I felt pretty stupid saying that at the time. I'm almost positive Sirius and Lily thought I was being stupid too. Like I was trying to play hero. Maybe I was. I didn't know. But I did know I didn't want them to be all bothered and worried. Id taken care of myself for five years. I'd seen visions about them 'striking' and nothing happened. I hid in my closet for a full 24-hours the first time I heard about one of the many strikes and nothing happened. But I was so afraid I made _ sit with me and she told me stories about her travels in Europe. I watched TV all day in the Wine Cellar the second time. This was the third. I'm almost positive I'm in no sort of danger. Even though daily we hear about muggles murdered by death eaters.

"Delia—he's a real threat. Don't you know about the—"

"I know!" I shouted, covering my face in my hands. "I know. Ive seen him kill, Lily. I know. But I'm not scared."

"I was just trying to help," she said in a whisper and I knew I hurt her badly. I still covered my face but I heard her muffled footsteps up the stairs. Sirius began stroking my hair. I savored the feeling.

"You shouldn't have said that, Del," he whispered soothingly.

"I know," I said and instantly wished I didn't.

"Stop saying that," he took my wrists and pulled my hands off my face. I was forced to look him straight in the eyes. "I want to help you."

I blinked, long and slow.

But still, when I opened my eyes his silver eyes were still mesmerizing and intense as ever.

"Let me help you."

He still held my wrists and I didn't ask him to let go.

Then, I said the only thing I could possibly think of. Maybe it was a lie. I don't know.

"Okay."

He smiled and began to stroke my hair again. Something in his mood changed and I realized he was relieved.

_Jeez. About what?  
_  
"I love this color. It's my favorite so far. How's your headache?" he asked me, his voice kind and energetic again. Not as intense and serious.

"Gone. Thanks to you."

He smiled sadly. And I realized there might be an iota of a chance that he didn't want me out of his lap. That maybe he liked me here. Comforting me. All those hopeful, happy thoughts disappeared as he said, "Well then up you go."

I stood tenderly, aware of the vertigo that always follows. I swayed and he hopped up to steady me by the shoulders. I laughed bitterly.

"It's the same every time, isn't it? And the timing is always awful," I said.

He laughed. "Isn't that the truth."

"I hate these visions."

He answered by wrapping an arm around my waist. I put a hand on his far shoulder. We started to trudge up the stairs. But it was awkward and lurchy.

"Wouldn't it be easier for me to carry you?" he said and I nearly fainted. I had a feeling it had nothing to do with vertigo.

I simply nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

So he slipped and arm under my knees and another by my shoulder blades. My head lolled but found a place to rest on his chest. I nearly sighed with contentment but stopped short.

I think he knew what was going on because he said, "You like Mademoiselle, yes?"

I laughed at his bad French accent.

"Yes. But not the accent. I'd prefer Italian."

"Oh! Mama Mia! A-pizza-pie-a!" he said. Then he leaned in close to me and feigned embarrassment.

"Do you know any more cliché Italian phrases? I'm running low."

I laughed. "I liked the French better."

"Oh! Mademoiselle! You flatter me t—"

"On second thought, why don't you stick with British?"

He laughed again. Heartily. Deeply. I nearly sighed again.

We had reached the door to the girl's dormitory and he kicked it open, I don't know how.

He brought me to a bed next to Lily's and laid me down. I didn't have time to admire the renovated dormitories. I made a mental note to do that later. Then I felt the heated glare of many angry seventh year girls, angry I was being held so tenderly by Sirius.

He took my hand for a moment and said, "Now, rest easy, Little D. We'll take later."

He squeezed it once then let it fall.

And with that promise, I fell asleep.

**WEEEEE-VOOOO**

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